


Morning Lattes

by inthesnowglobe



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, F/M, Morning After, One Night Stands, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 13:49:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthesnowglobe/pseuds/inthesnowglobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor discovers, after he passed out drunk in their apartment, Sansa took full advantage of his unconscious body and painted his nails, toenails, as well as giving him a makeover.</p><p>Sansan prompt.</p><p>Just a fun little drabble. I did it all in one sitting while i was almost as intoxicated as Sandor. Its messy and silly, but i had fun writing it. </p><p>Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Lattes

He had a wicked hangover as he rolled over to the cold side of the bed. His head was throbbing and his mouth felt like it was full of cotton as he tried to piece together the events of last night.

 

It was kind of blurry but he could have sworn...

 

_No. That was a dream._

 

His hand met a crumpled piece of paper and though he tried to read the writing, he found he was still drunk. The words were clouding together in incoherent letters that he couldn’t make sense of. He crumpled the paper in an angry fist and threw it across the room. He sought the cool side of the pillow and felt his eyelids get heavy.

 

_Sansa...._

 

_His dream...._

 

_Her body...._

 

_Against his...._

 

When he woke again, his head felt a little clearer. He didn’t feel the urge to vomit anymore; that was a plus, but his eyes did feel like they were glued together. He rubbed them and winced as something went into his eye. He rubbed them again and found he didn’t care. He was desperate to get something to eat and take a shower though. He slipped on a pair of rumpled boxers on the floor and stumbled into the kitchen. Osney and Arys were there laughing and drinking coffee and stale pizza in their own leftover stupors. When they saw him, they laughed even more heartily. His face must have shown that he was far from in the mood for jokes about how many chicks they bagged last night and how few he had taken to bed.

 

They would never understand. There was only one.

 

“Good morning, beautiful!” Arys exclaimed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

 

_Good. I'm glad it hurt._

 

He moved over to the fridge and yanked it open, effectively shoving Osney out of the way in the process. He grabbed a beer out and wrenched the cap off even though it wasn’t a twist off. He chugged half of it in one go and snatched a piece of pizza out of the box before shuffling back towards the bathroom. He heard their laughter follow him down the hall but found he couldn’t give a shit less.

 

_I'm sure she was a 4 in the dark, bro. Congrats on the STD._

 

He downed the rest of the beer once he was in the bathroom and started shrugging out of his boxers. He didn’t give a second thought to his reflexion. He always tried to avoid that. He knew he was ugly.

 

He turned the water on about as hot as he could stand it, which was pathetically low and stepped into the shower to brood and soak his aching muscles. He did find himself incredibly stiff.

 

He rotated his neck and felt it crack under the lukewarm water. It felt so good, he continued to stretch his achy muscles. When he threw his arms over his head and touched the ceiling, he felt a tightness in his stomach that he only associated with a vigorous work out sesh. He found his legs just as stiff and sore but after a couple of twists of the hot water nozzle and an increase in temp, he found the dull pain start to ebb.

 

_What the fuck did you do?_

 

Knowing him, he either found himself in a strength competition with some sad kid or had passed out and not moved all night long.

 

He reveled in the sensation of the hot water rolling over his achy body until a visual of the one thing he was trying not to think of flashed through his mind.

 

_Sansa...._

 

_Naked...._

 

_Moaning....._

 

He shook his long hair out of his face and felt the water go cold as he turned it off and stepped out. He toweled off as he felt his cock go steadily hard at the images that had just flashed through his mind.

 

He cursed himself at his weakness. His only weakness.

 

He gave up and finally took himself in his hand and stroked until the blurred images came without even trying.

 

_Sansa..._

 

_Her bouncing breasts as he pounded into her...._

 

_Her tight body swallowing his cock...._

 

_She moans...._

 

_He groans...._

 

_They come....._

 

He comes violently and hard into the towel he had been drying off with. He keeps her name off of his lips as he feels his cock twitch in his tight fist. If Arys or Osney ever heard that, they would torment him until he killed them both with his bare hands. He was in enough trouble. He didn’t need to be in jail for murder too.

 

When he finally looks up, he feels his breath catch in his throat. His first thought...

 

_No, they need to die._

 

As he looks into the mirror, he sees lines of makeup running down his face into his beard.

 

Long black fucking streaks have made their way into his fucking beard.

 

His eyes stay wide as he gapes stupidly at the war paint all over his goddamn face and into the crevasses of his scars. Its black and a little bit of brown. As he reaches a hand up to rub the smudges from his face, he feels like someone has punched him in the gut.

 

He flings his hand away from his scars like the pink nail polish on his nails were actually made of fire.

 

_Osney and Arys are really going to die for this._

 

Without a coherent thought in his head, Sandor stomps down the hallway in a blind rage towards the kitchen. Whatever laughter and idle chatting were taking place stops as he approaches and rounds the corner and into the large kitchen.

 

He is instantly gratified when he sees the looks on Osney's and Arys' faces.

 

“Woah! What the fuck?” Arys shouts as Sandor grabs Osney by the collar of his shirt.

 

“So... this was funny, huh?” Sandor sneered into Osney's face. Arys was trying futilely to pull Sandor off of Osney.

 

It was almost cute.

 

“What, man?” Osney asked with almost a hint of humor. It was infuriating.

 

“The fucking makeup and fingernail polish!” he roared into Osney's face.

 

“What are you talking about?” Arys screams into his ear as he gives one last measly tug and takes all three of them to the floor. All three of them scrabble and try to grab at each other as pizza crusts and empty beer bottles rain down on top of them.

 

“Dude! The makeup and shit was from your girlfriend!” Osney yelled as he rubbed his temple where a beer bottle clocked him.

 

Sandor grabbed another empty beer bottle and raised it high over his head. Arys yanked it out of his hand before he could threaten either of them properly.

 

Sandor shot them both a malicious look and grabbed one of the pie crusts and crunched on it. Anything to preoccupy him. “What the fuck are you assholes talking about?” he said through a mouth full of chewy crust.

 

“That redhead chick!” Arys said as he threw the bottle into the sink with a deafening clank.

 

Sandor felt a panic seize him when he finally noticed his toenails. They were pink.

 

Fucking pink...

 

_The dream...._

 

“What redhead chick?” he asked as he tried to hide his unease.

 

Osney and Arys exchanged a very disturbing glance and a smile.

 

“What?” Sandor tried not to yell.

 

“How drunk were you last night?” Arys asked with a sly look.

 

Sandor's eyes darted frantically back and forth. “Very.”

 

They laughed.

 

It was enough.

 

Sandor scrambled to his feet and ran to his room. He scrambled around beside his dresser until he found it hiding beneath towards the back. His arm was too thick to reach all the way back so he found himself searching desperately for something to kick out from under the dresser.

 

A tentative knock at the door sent him sitting bolt upright.

 

“Yo! Hound!”

 

_Osney!_

 

He heard the sound of the door opening and Arys talking in a hushed voice to someone. The voice that answered him back was like a song.

 

“Sure. He's back there. Help yourself gorgeous.” Arys said before he heard the patter of small feet walk towards his door.

 

Sandor unstuck his arm from under his dresser and flopped down into bed. He composed his face into the most neutral expression possible just as his door opened.

 

Sansa smiled shyly as she shut the door behind her. “Hey, I- I uh, brought coffee,” she stuttered prettily.

 

Sandor couldn’t shut his mouth or take his eyes off of her. “Huh?”

 

“Coffee,” she said as she held up the two cups of Starbucks. “But I didn’t know what you liked.”

 

Her hair was a mess and her makeup was smudging under her eyes. Somehow, she was still a vision.

 

_And she is here offering you coffee..._

 

“I... uh... whatever,” he said as he finally regained his senses. He reached for the cup she had extended. “I mean, whatever is fine. Thanks.”

 

Sansa smiled at his hand and slid down onto the bed as gently as she could. “Sorry,” she whispered.

 

“About what?”

 

She smiled again. “The nails and the makeup. Didnt you get my note?”

 

“That was you?” Sandor felt a smile curling at his lips against his will.

 

She turned to him with wide worried eyes. “Really, I'm sorry. I mean, it kind of was. It was Arya. My sister. I was- I... uh... I had a little too much to drink. I would have never-”

 

Sandor smiled widely and grabbed her to bring her in for a kiss.

 

She gasped as she struggled to keep her coffee from spilling. She kissed him back with a passion he couldn’t have imagined and he found himself relieved.

 

_It wasn’t a dream...._

 

He wanted desperately to remember what had happened but found himself not caring at all as he took her cup from her an set it on the table by the bed. He broke the kiss for only moments but found himself starving for more.

 

When he leaned back down, she was still breathless and waiting for him. She smiled and he dipped his head lower and lower until their lips met.

 

She showed him everything that he had missed while he was drunk.

 

He had never imagined it to be better.

 


End file.
